


Stranger Danger

by morning_coffee



Category: Original Work
Genre: Deception, F/M, Held Down, Horror, Rape Fantasy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morning_coffee/pseuds/morning_coffee
Summary: A drunk girl on his backseat, and a long drive through the bad parts of town ahead of them, Patrick has big plans for tonight. But the real thing never quite matches the fantasy, does it?
Relationships: Lecherous Male Taxi Driver/Drunk Party Girl without Panties
Comments: 12
Kudos: 162
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Stranger Danger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naughty_sock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughty_sock/gifts).



> Thanks to my lovely beta Sara for the help and the encouragement! ♥

The girl's short, glittery skirt hitches up when she climbs into the backseat of the cab. 

She doesn't notice or doesn't care, too busy fixing her lipstick, plush lips stretched into a perfect O as she applies another coating. Then she smacks her lips with an obnoxious pop that cuts through the silence like a slap.

Patrick keenly watches her in the rear-view mirror, his eyes drawn to the long expanse of smooth legs and the glimpse of bare, pink flesh between her thighs. Naughty little thing. Out and about partying with no underwear like a filthy whore. Doesn't even bother to hide how badly she wants it. He licks his lips and imagines pulling her legs further apart. Imagines feeling her up until she's so wet that she's dripping all over the black leather of the car seat.

"Where to, love?"

She catches his eyes in the mirror, but her gaze is unfocused, flighty like a butterfly before you catch it and rip off its wings. Yeah, she's definitely had a few drinks more than she can handle. It seems to take a moment for her to remember where she's headed before she rattles off an address in the South-East, and Patrick mentally goes through potential routes.

"Mind if I drive by the docks?" he asks. "It'll be quicker than going through the city." 

More secluded, too. Lots of places to stop the car and have a little break, far away from the watchful eyes of CCTV and the steady stream of tourists exploring the latest hotspots and hippest clubs.

"Sure, whatever. I'm so bad with directions anyway, you have no idea." 

She giggles and flips her hair in a gesture that seems well-practiced and coy, the kind of move that girls like her have perfected for when they snap selfies or flutter their lashes at some poor sucker they rope into paying for their drinks before leaving him high and dry with blue balls. Patrick's known plenty of girls like her, who think they can get away with anything just because they're pretty. They think they're so smart and want to be treated like princesses, when in truth all they're good for is getting their holes stuffed.

"What's your name?"

"It's Kathy. With a K, not with a C."

Patrick almost rolls his eyes because, really now? Like he gives a fuck how her name is spelled. He's just making small talk to pass the time. Being friendly, because it's so much better when they think he's this nice, harmless guy, and then they realize how wrong they've been once he drags them out of the car by their throats and pushes them down onto the hood of the cab. That dumb look of surprise gets him every fucking time.

"Nice to meet you, Kathy. I'm Patrick." 

He smiles at her, and she giggles again, high-pitched and grating. Like chalk on blackboard. Makes him wonder what she'll sound like when she stops giggling and starts gasping and screaming instead. And he'll make her scream, alright. She'll scream until her throat is sore when he pins her down on the hood and starts fucking her tight little cunt like the teasing bitch deserves.

When he stops at a red light, he looks into the mirror and lets his eyes drift to the shadows between her naked thighs where he can catch just enough of a glimpse of her pussy that it makes his dick twitch in his jeans. He takes his left hand off the steering wheel and adjusts himself, flooring the pedal a little too hard as the light switches to green. The car jerks forward and she's knocked around in her seat a little, her skirt shifting higher.

Maybe he'll be nice to her. Start by giving her his fingers first. Two at a time, so it won't take too long, so she'll feel the stretch. Just push them in until her cunt swallows them and then start fucking them in and out of her until she's sloppy and soaked. She'll be begging him to stop, and then maybe he'll add two more, just to see if she can take it. She looks like she's used to being treated gently, but maybe she'll learn to like a little pain. Maybe she'll love being hurt just right, being taken to her limits. 

And then, when she's crying so hard that her pretty make-up is all messed up, he'll pull out and spank that sweet, moist pussy with his palm until she comes all over him and coats his hand with her juices. He'll make her lick it off, too, clean up his fingers nicely with those cock-sucking lips of hers. And he'll tell her how good she looks like that, sweet little Kathy acting like the filthy whore she is. How she's fucking made for this.

She'll think that he's done with her, that he's gonna let her go now. Boy, she'll be in for a nasty surprise, because they've only just gotten started.

Keeping his hand on his groin and subtly rubbing his boner through the rough denim, Patrick steers the car one-handed. His gaze keeps flickering towards Kathy's reflection in mirror. She looks half-asleep, not paying any attention to where they're going, her pink-stained lips glistening under the glare of the passing street lamps that illuminate the inside of the car in flashes before it's immersed in darkness again. 

It's easy to imagine what she'll look like when he'll get out his dick. Her blue eyes will go wide with shock and fear, because now she'll know what's coming, knows she won't get away clean after riding his fingers. She'll struggle and try to make a run for it, but he'll just hold her down until the fight goes out of her. Or maybe it won't. Maybe she's one of those girls who keeps struggling on and on even when she know that it's pointless, who'll still try her best to kick him when he pulls apart her thighs and pushes his dick in. She'll clamp down, like that'll stop him, like it doesn't make it even better because it means her cunt's tight like a vice around his dick.

He'll fuck her through her protests, through the crying, through the vulgar insults when she realizes that there's no stopping him. In and out. Like a fucking machine. Giving her the good dicking she deserves.

She's a screamer; he can see it in her face. Maybe he'll get her to scream his name. Hell, maybe he'll even get her to plead for more. Or plead for him to stop, he doesn't care. He just wants her to plead. 

His dick's getting so hard, it makes it difficult to drive. But it's okay; they're almost there.

Patrick turns left to the old abandoned warehouse area at the docks and the asphalt-covered streets abruptly end. The car hobbles across the uneven cobbled pavement, each tiny jump sending delicious vibrations straight to his hard-on. Feels fucking amazing, but not as good as her pussy will feel.

A couple more turns, then he slams on the brakes.

"Hey, why are we stopping?" Kathy asks, looking around. "This isn't my street."

She sounds more put-out than scared. Patrick has a hard time hiding away his grin as he's waiting for it to sink in, once she figures out how much trouble she's in. He undoes his seat belt and turns around so he can watch her properly, waiting for that exquisite moment when the fear starts blooming on her face.

"I just want to go home. Can you please just get me home?"

Cute. She really thinks that if she only bats her eyes and asks nicely, he'll do what she wants. Probably because that's how it always works for her.

Well, not this time.

"Don't worry, we'll have fun." He winks at her and watches her shrink back in her seat. It makes him laugh. "Now you be a good girl and do exactly what I say, and you'll be home in your bed by morning."

She's clearly not the sharpest tool in the drawer, but he figures she'll get the drift and understand that there's an option B for what's gonna happen if she doesn't behave.

He gets out and steps around the car. The night's cold and foggy, a sheen of wetness coating the finish of his cab. It'll soak through her shirt when he's got her stretched out across the hood. Maybe he should take her from behind. He won't be able to see her face when he fucks her, but having her tits squashed against the cool, wet metal will be nice too. Hell, maybe he'll get to do both.

Smiling in anticipation, he pulls open the back door. 

The backseat is empty; no sign of Kathy. Huh. 

Maybe she ran. That's fine. He likes it when they run. Not like she'll get very far, a drunk girl on high heels, and he knows the area better than she does.

The sense that there's something behind him prickles on his neck, uncomfortable like an itch he can't scratch. He spins around, ready to punch whoever snuck up on him, and there's Kathy. Except... not.

She stands tall, her head cocked to the side as she watches him with eyes that glow an eerie red. It's just some freaky kind of reflection, Patrick thinks. But his gut clenches, and he knows something's very wrong. 

"What the—"

"Oh, Patrick. You're so predictable," Kathy says. Her voice isn't slurred anymore, and her smile has too many teeth that look grotesque and out of place beneath the bubblegum pink of her lipstick. "Guys like you, they always are. It's almost a little boring."

She reaches out to touch his cheek, and the long, painted nails he saw in the car are gone, replaced by something that could almost be claws. 

He jerks back, but there's nowhere to go, the car behind him and Kathy— whoever, _whatever_ she is— that _thing_ in front of him. 

He needs to run. 

He needs to get away from here. 

He needs to— 

"Shh, don't worry, love," Kathy says, her tone sickeningly sweet as she leans in. "You said it yourself. We're going to have a lot of fun, you and I."

End.


End file.
